Faith
by vicodin-vixens
Summary: Cause you gotta have.... Warning: Contains slash. We own nothing. Because this isn't the way it went down. Stupid writers.


**A/N: Inspired by a teaser on youtube about 6x10 "Wilson". This is the way it SHOULD go. If only we were in charge, the world would be a much slashier place.**

Wilson wasn't awake yet.

House couldn't sleep, and so, in the dark of night, had driven across town to his abandoned apartment to retrieve his guitars. But he was reluctant to wake Wilson.

House sat in the living room, lights turned down low and ran his hands along the smooth sides of the guitar.

As his fingers absently slid down the strings, House allowed his mind to wander.

At first, he thought of work, of strange patient cases, of stupid clinic patients, of Cameron's leaving, of Cuddy and Lucas, but inevitably his mind settled on the same thing it always did - Wilson.

This was getting ridiculous, House thought, as he thumbed a chord on his guitar.

Six weeks spent sleeping on Wilson's couch before Wilson had even entertained the idea that perhaps House was looking for a more permanent place to stay.

House scowled and his fingers became more persistent on the guitar strings, plucking out a familiar rhythm.

When Wilson had offered House the use of his guest bedroom, it was all House could do not to slam Wilson against the wall, kiss him until he was breathless, and then smack him for being so incredibly dumb.

Baby steps, he thought.

Unaware of what he was doing, House began playing louder, the first song that came to mind.

To hell with Wilson's beauty sleep, House had had enough pussy-footing around the issue, and was determined to make his move.  
After today, Wilson would be unable to hide behind his veil of naivety, charming as that might have been.

And just in case the strumming of a good guitar riff wasn't enough to rouse Wilson from his peaceful slumber, House decided to throw in some lyrics. Granted, they weren't original, but they should have done the trick just the same.

_**Well, I guess it would be nice**_  
_**If I could touch your body**_  
_**I know not everybody**_  
_**Has got a body like you**_

Wilson walked in, right on cue and House gave him his most intense stare as he sang one more word

_**Baby**_

Wilson looked rumpled, irritated, and utterly adorable as he scrubbed a hand over his face and muttered his annoyance at having been woken up.

House pointed out that on any other given day, Wilson would have been bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by now.

"I'm not going to work today." Wilson replied.

House had to bite the inside of his cheek, hard, at the sudden surge of jealousy that flared up in the pit of his stomach when Wilson told him he was going hunting (Seriously? Wilson, hunting?).

"Is it that time of year again?" House asked, abandoning his guitar to follow Wilson back to the bedroom. "He's a self-important jerk."

"He's my friend." Wilson mumbled, and the flare of jealousy sparked even higher.

"He's a self-important jerk." House repeated.

"Seems to be what I'm attracted to." Wilson replied, head turned away from House.

"Speaking of attraction - could you possibly be any thicker?" House demanded, his hands clenching and unclenching as the jealousy slowly dissolved into something resembling nervousness.

Wilson rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows. "Excuse me?"

House sat down heavily on the bed and willed his hands to stop shaking. He rubbed his thigh.

"What do I have to do to make it any more obvious?" he asked, his blue eyes searching Wilson's brown ones.

Wilson's thick brows furrowed in confusion.

"House. It's early. I've just woken up and I have no idea what you're talking about. Either spit it out or let me get back to sleep."

House took a deep, steadying breath and thought of his song. 'Faith'. Here it was. Now or never.

He leaned over, closed his eyes and lowered his lips to Wilson's.

Wilson's mouth was surprisingly soft and warm as House rubbed his lips apart and slipped his tongue inside.

No morning-breath for Wilson- he tasted fresh and minty, and House brought his hand up to tangle in the back of Wilson's hair and angle their kiss even deeper.

Wilson placed a palm on House's chest, but didn't push him away.

Flushed and breathless, House pulled away slowly, looking into Wilson's eyes, which were not clouded with confusion any longer. No, they were lust-darkened and dilated.

House winked. "Clear?"

Wilson licked his stubble-abraded lips and nodded slowly.

"Crystal." he answered hoarsely, and his fingers, still on House's chest, grasped his t-shirt and pulled him close once more.


End file.
